JULY 9 
457 
THE 
RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
titan UtiManu. 
LOST, A BOY. 
He went from the old home hearthstone 
Just twenty years asro, 
A Isnehlnir. rollleltimr follow. 
It. would do yon (food to know; 
Since then we have not seen him, 
And we say. with a nnmeless pain. 
The hoy that we knew and loved so 
We shall never see a (rain. 
One bearin'? the name we irave him 
Comes home to ns to-day. 
But this Is not thnMear fellow 
We kissed and Bent away. 
Tall as the man ho calls father. 
Witti’a man’s look in his face, 
Is he who takes by the hearthstone 
The loetTsoy’s olden’place. 
We miss the laugh that made music 
Wherever the lost boy wont; 
This man has a smile most winsome, 
His eves have a irrave Intent. 
We know he is think!m? and planning 
His way in the world of men. 
And wo o.annot'lieln but love him, 
But wo long for onr hoy again 
We are proud of thlB manly fellow 
Who comes to take his place. 
With hints of the vanished boyhood 
Iu his earnest, thoughtful face; 
And yet comes hack the longing 
For the hoy we must henceforth miss, 
Whom we sent away from the hearthstone 
Forever with a kiss. 
MY EXPERIENCE. 
CHAPTER 1. 
“ Are you quite comfortable, Grade?” 
“ Quite, thank you.” 
“ Shall I close the other window ?" 
“ No, thank you; I prefer having It down.” 
“ Here la your book, little one; 1 hope It may 
prove interesting.” 
So saying my fiance hands me a volume he has 
purchased for me at the book-stall of the station 
we have just left, and relapses Into his own corner, 
silence and the Times; while I—Grace Armltage, 
ah your service, gentle reader—open “ The story 
of Elizabeth,” and begin to read, turning over the 
leaves with an appearance of Interest I am tar 
from feeling. 
It is not that Miss Thackeray’s charming novel¬ 
ette falls to attract me. Under ordinary clreum- 
stanoes I should revel In It; but the present are 
not ordinary circumstances, they are very extra¬ 
ordinary ones, for within the last week l have 
risen to the dignity of an engaged young lady, and 
I am not used to It yet. I can scarcely realize even 
now, when the train is gliding away from Granville 
Station towards the fair sou the ru country whither 
we are going, that I aui returning homo, escorted 
by my betrothed lover, who la to ho introduced to 
my dear ones at home. When 1 lift my eyes for a 
moment from my novel, and glance towards the 
opposite corner of the railway compartment, which 
we have all to ourselves (a tete-a-tete wo owe to the 
guard’s discrimination), there la a very tangible 
and substantial proof of the reality of the sltua. 
tlon, a proof standing six teet-two, with dark f 
proud, grave eyes, and a thick, curling, chestnuc 
beard—a proof rejoicing in the very euphonious 
appellation of Cyril Vernon; a name which 1 am 
inclined to think the very prettiest I ever heard. 
How Cyril Vernon and Grace Armltage became 
engaged 1 am not at aU clear about oven yet. 
About a month—no, it Is six weeks- ago 1 went 
on a visit to a school friend at Granville, leaving 
home full of eager anticipation of the pleasure I 
should have--anticipation which was lully realized 
Janie Dutton and I rode and drove, and sang and 
danced, and were altogether happy for a fori night, 
at the end of which time Mr. Vernon came to 
Graflvllle on a vlBlt. 
At first, both Janie and myself were a little 
afraid of the grave, stately bearded stranger: but 
soon the fear had faded before his gentle kindness; 
and when, at the end of three weeks, he took my 
hands in hts and asked me If I could love him well 
enough to be happy as his wife, 1 never dreamed 
of refusing, while my father’s consent was easily 
obtained—Mr. Dutton’s warm praise of Ills Ron’s 
friend being a roost satisfactory recommendation. 
Thus it happens that 1 am going home with Cyril, 
in order that my Jtanoe should become known to 
papa and the family. 
We have been engaged a week, although, at my 
own request, tho engagement, has been kept secret 
from all but the Duttons. I have a diamond, sol¬ 
itaire-ring on the fourth Unger of my left hand. 
Cyril Is somewhat grave and reserved In his 
manner; to me he la gentleness itself, but be 
never speaks of his affection or seems to look for¬ 
ward to the life we are to spend together; but, 
then, ho Is much older than I am, and with him 
actions speak louder than words. 
I am very happy. As the train glides swiftly 
onward, 1 say to myself again and again that I am 
very happy, trying to Ignore tUe undoubted fact 
that there 13 in one corner of my heart a little 
pain which I cannot or will not account tor. It Is 
too absurd, when I am the most fortunate girl In 
all the world, more especially as It Is only slnoe 
we started homewards that this curious little 
ache has made lea appearance. How delightful It 
will be to see them all at home once more; to tell 
Mabel and my dear mother how happy I am; to 
show them all my pretty presents and my hand¬ 
some, stately lover 1 I wonder It she will have 
told anyone of my engagement. I wonder If she 
has spoken of It to Fannie Edmonds— t wonder if 
Fannie will have told Jack, her brother—I wonder 
—and the curious little pain deepens, and 1 try to 
dismiss tho thoughts of home and bring my mind 
back to the railway carriage and Cyril. 
There he sits, grave, silent, and absorbed in his 
newspaper. How handsome he is; how grand¬ 
looking—much handsomer than John DamplerT 
say to myself, frolng back to Mips Thackeray’s 
hern ; but then T don’t think John Dsmpler. If he 
had been traveling alone with Ellv Gilmore, 
would have read the Times, l wonder if Jack 
Edmonds would rend—what nonsense, where are 
my thoughts wandering to ? 
T look out of the window : it is a bright, sun¬ 
shiny. summer dav. with a soft hreeze Rtirrlng 
among the full-leaved trees, and the hinds fixing 
to and fro, chirping merrily and musically TTow 
pretty the o’d home will look with the rases min- 
trllner with clematis over the porch, and the old- 
fashioned garden In a glorv of .Tuue blossoms! 
The children will probably ho playing lawn ten¬ 
nis when we arrive, and Mabel win have tea 
ready for us In the shadv n'd drawing-room ; and 
after tea f will take Cyril round and Introduce 
him to Miss Baines and Trot, the old pony, and 
show Mm the swine in the meadow, where Jack 
Edmonds and T used to have such fun in the old 
childish days which seem so loner ago now. 
“ Grade, what are yon looking dismal about?” 
says a deep, rich voice at this Hindu re; and I 
turn with a s’nrt. to find Cyril watching me over 
the outstretched sheet of the mimes. 
“ Am T looking dismal?” I ask. frying to laugh. 
“ T do not fpel so." 
“ And you slghPrt-such a heavy, sad sigh, lit¬ 
tle one ! Wbat were you sighing for ?” 
“ Did T sigh ?” f ask. coloring hotlv. and vexPd 
with myself for doing so. 11 It must have been 
unconsciously then, for T am quite unaware of 
having* done so ’’ 
What is Grade wishing for that she has not 
got?” 
*< Nothing " T answer, steadily. 
<• Nothing! You are sure. Grade ?” 
He look” over a’ me questionlngly and gravely, 
and T feel that the color nickers In my cheek, and 
that my eves fall beneath his. 
“ Tou are surp ?’’ he says, gently ; and he leans 
forward, and puts hts hand over mine. 
“T am quite sure." T answer, steadily. 
At this moment I feel that I am indeed a very 
fortunate girl. 
Then what were you thinking of, dear?” he 
pursues, smiling. 
« T was thinking of Mabel.” 
He takes his hand off mine, and leans back In 
his corner. 
“ About Mabel? You are very fond of Mabel ?” 
be says, quietly. 
“ Yes, we all love Mabel.” 
« do you thin k Mabel will approve of me ?” he 
Bays, with a laugh. 
1 look at him shyly. I have not much fear of 
Mabel’s criticism; and I suppose my eyes say so, 
for he smiles. 
** i hope she will,” he says, gaily. “ Miss Arml¬ 
tage must he a very formidable personage." 
I laugh a little. 
“ I am Miss Armltage 1” I say, saucily. 
« You are Miss Armltage!” he repeats, in some 
surprise. 11 Why. I thought your sister was mu ;b 
older than you.” 
so she is.” 
*- Then how comes It that she is hot Miss Arml¬ 
tage ?” he asks, curiously. 
•' Can't you guess ?” 
He considers for a moment. 
"Oil! because she is married, of course,” he 
says. In a tone of relief, as If he has solved a diffi¬ 
cult problem. 
•‘SheIs not married,” T announce, triumphant¬ 
ly. ”lf she had a husband, how could she live 
with us ?” 
« He might be abroad, in some unhealthy cli¬ 
mate,” he suggests, smiling. 
“ If Mabel had a husband, she would be where 
he was, unhealthy or not,” I answer. “She Is 
much too true and sweet and brave to let him go 
Into danger without her.” 
“Is she? I am getting curious about Mabel,” 
he rejoins, smiling still, as If my enthusiasm 
amuses him. "Is she a widow, then?” 
“ A widow !—oh, no ; she has never been mar¬ 
ried. 
*• Then why Is she not Mlsa Armltage ?” he asks. 
“ I can’t guess, Oracle.” 
*• Can’t you ? Try.” 
“ I give it up,” he replies, shaking his head. 
*« And yet It is very simple. Mabel Is mamma’s 
daughter by her first hUBband,” I explain; “ and 
her name la Ord." 
•• ord,” he repeats; “ Mabel ord.” 
“ Yes; It la a pretty name, ts It not 7” 
He makes no answer, but his lips move as if he 
were repeating the name. 
“Yes,"be says presently, “It Is a pretty name." 
He has taken up the Times, and is com¬ 
pletely concealed by Its voluminous sheets, nor 
does he emerge from behind them un til we reach 
home, and I start up announcing that we have ar¬ 
rived at our destination. Cyril puts away his 
paper and rises; he collects my belongings, and 
when the train stops, lifts me out in silence on the 
platform. I see two tawldar faces—my brother 
Bob’s and Mabel’B beautiful pale face, as she 
stands, tall, and straight, and slim, in her soft 
gray draperies. She looks very pale as I hasten 
towards her, and 1 think, with a little pang, that 
I have been very selfish In stopping away 90 long, 
and leaving her with all her cares of housekeeping, 
the parish and the children on her shoulders. 
•■Welcome home, dear,” she says, as she puts 
her arms round me. while the touch of her lips 
seem to scorch me, they are so dry and burning. 
“Mabel, oh, Mabel t" I say, clinging to her for a 
moment, but we have no time to say more, for 
Cyril cornea up and stands waiting. I make the 
introduction shyly enough. Cyril bows gravely. 
Mabel holds out her hand with a few words of wel¬ 
come, spoken in low, sweet tones; but apparently 
he does not sec her gesture, for he does not take it 
or perhaps he baa no hand to spare, encumbered 
as he la with my wraps, etc. 
“The pony carriage is waiting,” Mabel says, as 
she turns to leave the station. *• Bob will see to 
the luggage, Mr. Vernon.” 
We find the pony carriage outside, and Mabel 
assumes the driving seat; but we have not gone 
manv yards when she puts the reins into my 
handa. 
“Yon drive, dear.” she says, tremulously, and 
I see that her hands are unsteady and that she ts 
white as death. Cyril Is looking at, her curiously 
or anxiously, and I dare say wondering at the 
strange pallor. 
“Mabel, «re you 111? Wbat Is the matter?” I 
ask. anxiously. 
« There Is nothing the matter.” she says, almost 
sharply. “ ’fhe heat makes me feel a little faint. 
Ts this yonr first, visit, to Devonshire. Mr. Vernon 7” 
she adds, looking across at Cyril, who looks some, 
what out of place to. and too big for, our little 
vehicle. 
■•Yes; it, Isa lovely county. ” he answers, and 
from the cold tone of Ills voice. I fancy that he 
his taken some sudden aversion to Mabel. 
“ We are very proud of It,” she answers, In her 
frank, cordial manner—she seems to have quite 
thrown off the momentary faintness—“ GraelP 
must take you some long walks and show you our 
favorite places. There are the most beautiful 
views to be seen from the hills. ” 
“ Have you been here long ?” he asks. 
“ Six years. 1 dare say Grade has spoken to you 
about Easton.” 
“ No; she has not spoken to me about her 
home ” 
“ T wanted It, all to he new to you.” I say. as I 
give the poDtesa sharp cut of the whip, thus vent¬ 
ing on the poor animals my Intense annoyance at. 
the apparent want of sympathy between my lover 
and Mabel. “ T dare say it will look very small to 
you after New Zealand ” 
He laughs slightly, and we drive on until we 
reach our pretty home at the gate of which stands 
the owner and Jack Edmonds Papa turns with a 
start as we pull up. and looks at us In bis absent 
short-sighted way, as if he were not quite sure of 
our identity; r don’t think he is, by the way. 
Jack evidently reeognlzes us at once. He raises 
his straw hat, but does not come forward to meet 
us; and It Is only after papa and Cyril have 
greeted each other, that r go towards him, offer¬ 
ing my hand. 
“Ib Fannie well?” I ask awkwardly. “And 
Mrs. Edmonds ?” 
“ They are very well, thank you,” he answers, 
with at least equal awkwardness as he drops my 
hand, and we stand looking at each other for a 
moment In silence. 
“Come in and have some tea, Edmonds,” papa 
says hospitably. 
“ Thank you, sir, not this afternoon. My mother 
will be expecting me.” 
He lifts his hat again, turns away, and strides off 
up the hill, and I follow Mabel Into the house with 
that strange pain deepening at toy heart. 
We reach the drawing-room first, for my father 
detains cyrtl in the garden to show him his favorite 
Mareohal Nlel roae.so that Mabel and I have two or 
three minutes to ourselves before they arrive, as 
soon as v> a reach the room, Mabel throws aside 
her hat, as If the weight oppressed her; theushe 
turns to me, puts both her arms around me, and 
holds me from her. looking down tnto my face 
with such eager, shining eyes! 
“ You are happy. Grade ?” she says tremulously 
“ Youlove him?” 
“ I am very happy,” t answer, somewhat un¬ 
truthfully, and my eyes sink under hers. 
“ Make him happy, my darling,” she says, soft¬ 
ly. “ Hl 3 happiness will make yours.” 
she puts her llpa down and kl9ses me with a 
feverish, impassioned tenderness ; then releases 
me suddenly, as the door opens to admit papa and 
Cyril. The next moment her strange agitation 
has all disappeared, and she Is pouring out tea 
with her usual quiet grace; while Cyril stands, 
tall, grave, and absent by the window, watching 
Mabel with anxious Intentness, und answering 
papa in such an abstracted manuer, that 1 am 
afraid he will not have much opinion of hia Intel¬ 
ligence ; and It is no small relief to me when the 
dressing-bell disperses ua, and sends us off to pre¬ 
pare dinner.—To be continued. 
BEAUTIFUL IOWA. 
Counties of Sioux, Lyon and Osceola, in the 
Northwestern Corner of the State. 
MESSRS HOLMES AND SWEETLANI). 
[Special Correspondents of the Bubal Nnw-YomtEa.l 
Standing here upon the boundaries of the State, 
wltb Minnesota to the north and Dakota Territory 
to the west we oan gaze toward the horizon of the 
setting sun and truthfully exclaim: *• Behold the 
star of emplve la atltl tar beyond, toward the 
Rockies," for speeding by dally are west-bound 
trains laden with emigrants, who are seek¬ 
ing government lands and a pioneer's life, while 
hundreds from our Eastern States are stopping 
here and settling for a future home. And why 
not ? For we find ourselves surrounded with good 
society, churches, schools railroads and thrift. 
The topography la elevated and undulating, as 
beautiful as the eye of man e’er rested upou; soli 
rich, dark and deep, with just enough sand to pro¬ 
mote vegetation rapidly and secure good drainage; 
and thousands of broad acres in these ccuntlea, 
whloh have been purchased at from |5 to *3 per 
acre, have this season rolled their rich sod to the 
sunlight and received a seeding of itax that, with 
an ordinary yield this Fall, will give a net profit 
equal to one-quarter the cost or tha land. The 
crop of 1S80 lor these three counties- so,ooo bush¬ 
els—averaged $1.03 per bushel, while the seeding 
of issi indicates at least sso.fiOO bushels this sea¬ 
son. Lands, wild, according to information from 
Fierce & Lewts, Orange city, la.—who, by the way. 
publish a neat map of Sioux county for free ills 
trlbutlon to their correspondents—are now sold at 
from $4 to $10 per acre, averaging about $6. They 
aeemtobe enterprising and reliable men. Im¬ 
proved farms can be purchased ranging from $8 to 
$20 per acre, according to location and Improve¬ 
ments, which win discount, many farms east of the 
Allegbanles that cannot he bought for less than 
$T 5 per acre. In quantity and quality of product. 
The breaking of rifis season visidalts crop of flax 
next Fall, and can then be cross-plowed or. It de¬ 
sired, let It lie until Spring before cross-plowing, 
and it is ready lor wheat, oats. corn, rye, barley, 
flax, root crops, or anything the farmer desires to 
cultivate. 
Lyon and Hlonx counties are bordered on the 
west by the Big Sioux River, and have four small¬ 
er streams coursing through them from north to 
south, and O 3 ceola County has three streams, all 
of them abounding In fish. Natural timber skirts 
moat of the streams, and in all these counties 
there are numerous groves of artificial timber, 
some of whloh can yield fuel for fireside nse Wells 
of excellent, water are found at a depth of 15 to 
35 feet: and the climate la invigorating and 
healthful. 
Tobacco has been successfully raised here by 
some enterprising farmers, who brought their in¬ 
dustrial babtts with them from tbelaort of “ wood¬ 
en nutmegs” aDd they even ventured to tell us 
they thought it better '‘Connecticut: seed Leaf” 
than they raised “bark East.” Let the reader 
look at bit map and trace the lines of latitude 
east, and he will he prepared to believe that, this 
section Is adapted by Its climate to any produce 
•raised In the Western. Middle and Eastern States. 
More attention should be given here to setting 
orchards of choice hardy fruit,; and doubtless this 
will he done In the early future. 
We have traveled extensively In these counties, 
aud do not, believe there are too acres of waste 
land in the entire area of the three counties, and 
the variety or surface enhances its value for diver¬ 
sified agriculture, and renders stock-raising and 
dairying extremely profitable. The natural 
grasses are as rich and nutrtMous as they are 
abundant, and combined with the advantages of 
pure air, good water, and healthrul climate. It is 
easily understood why the creamery butter of 
Iowa takes a first rank, and why Iowa beef is at 
a premium In the grazlog season, as wen as In 
the reeding, when the yield of so to 60 bushels of 
corn per acre ts turned Into beef for domestic and 
export trade. Not only la It estimated that the stock 
Interest of these counties Is increasing fully 50 per 
cent, tn quantity per annum, but effort ts contin¬ 
ually made to raise Hie grade and improve the 
the quality. Short-horns are the favorite breed 
In cattle; Poland-Chma and Berkshire hogs; and 
Cotswold and other coarser grades of wool Bheep. 
Of the latter there are probably T.uOO In these 
counties, aDd from D. L. McCausiand we were 
a38ured that the clip cr wool from the same grade 
of sheep. Is fully two pounds more per head here 
than in the States further east—equal to 33 to 50 
per cent. more. 
New Life has been Instilled 
into the settlement of the3e' counties by English 
coloniz « Ion and enterprise, under the manage¬ 
ment, of Messrs. Close Brothers & Co., Lemars. 
Iowa, and Close. Benson & Co., 39 Cornhlll, 
London. As representatives of English capital 
they have this Spring purchased about 40,000 
acres, sold about 20,000 and are still purchasing 
tor parties abroad. In Lyon County they are 
managing over 20,000 acres, one-half of which was 
broken and seeded the past Spring, divided into 
luO or more farms; over 100 houses and barns were 
built and these farms rented to American tenants. 
The exact opposite of the Dalr.vmple plan is that 
pursued by these gentlemen, as with them those 
who till their soli have an Interest In the proceeds. 
In Sioux county they are managing two whole 
townships (a township Is six miles square) equal 
to 46,080 acres, ot which probably 7 ,000 have been 
brought under cultivation this year and divided 
into about 60 farms; and in Osceola County tbe 
breaking will amount to nearly 10,000 acres, and 
the houses built number 100 . Parties renting and 
remaining a few years will have become familiar¬ 
ized with the county, crops, markets and prices 
and can buy. They pay $2 25 cash per acre for 
breaking and when desired furnish flax for seed¬ 
ing on the sod. The herd law Is the poor man’s 
friend and helps many a one to get a start in this 
county, who could not afford to fence the land. 
This firm also concrols the sale of over 100,000 
acres of railroad lands In these and adjoining coun¬ 
ties. Many Englishmen are settling In North¬ 
western Iowa through this agency, purchasing 
and improving homesteads, in size and manner 
according to their castes and means. We did not 
meet these gent’emen during our 9tay In these 
counties, but were Informed by those who know, 
that they had been the means of bringing over 
$ 600,000 of money into this part of the State with¬ 
in the past two years, and were developing large 
stock farms, as Individual investments, In Ply¬ 
mouth and Woodbury Counties. Their average 
price is $6 per acre. Taxes are doubtless higher 
here than East, literally stated, but in tact they 
are much lower, when you estimate the difference 
In valuations—upon which, of course, the taxes 
are levied. 
Siblet.— The county seat of Osceola Is a pret¬ 
tily looated prairie town on the Chicago, St. 
Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha R. R., passirg 
through the west halt ot the county diagonally 
northeast and southwest It has a population 
of about 400 , three church organizations, (with 
two buildings), a good public school, with two 
teachers: a wide-awake newspaper, a home like 
and well-kept hotel, two banks, a dozen stores, 
more or less, two lumber yards and a grain eleva¬ 
tor. It commands a large radius of trade and Is 
destined to become a commercial town of some 
importance. They need a good steam flourlDg 
mm. aid other industries which a visit here 
would suggest. For assistance extended us In 
this county by C. Bull, banker, Barclay and Bull, 
real estate dealers; Capt. E. Huff, real es¬ 
tate and D. L. McCausiand, real estate and 
stock raiser and dealer, we return thanks, and 
feel confident that any correspondence addressed 
